Vigilantism
by A Love Destructive
Summary: When the drug known as Crystal devastates her family, Kagome decides to take up arms and wage war against the crime and corruption in her beloved city. Joining her is Inuyasha, known as Bloodhound, a brash vigilante and a shrewd business tycoon. A look at their lives of revenge and redemption told in flashes and pieces.
1. Chapter 1

I had an idea. Well. An image in my head. Of Kagome and Inuyasha as vigilantes in a city that, in this universe, is known as tokyo, but in theirs is still "Edo" and did not become the capitol. Kyoto is in that universe. This came about.

Just little snippets into their lives as vigilantes and other superheros they might know.

* * *

The air stank of determination and ambition. Sweat crawled down her face. A fist jumped into her field of vision and she attempted to block – _too slow_ – unsuccessfully, falling to the floor. She reminds herself how necessary her training is. Her calves ached with the strain of stillness, her forearms were bruised. She felt the pain down to her bones. She gritted her teeth and rolled back onto her feet, her hair falling out of the French braid.

"_No_, Kagome. Deflect my blows, you must _deflect_." The old _sensei _snapped with impatience. "How will you overcome a man twice your weight if you cannot do such a simple thing as this?"

Kagome's jaw clenched tightly. She hated this part of her day but knew it would save her life on many occasions; she owed Miroku for setting up the appointments with Myoga for her. It was imperative that she learn to master herself.

She stood, breathing heavily, waiting for the man's next move. He circled her with the stoic grace of a shark, each step measured, every muscle movement controlled. She could feel the strength in his body by how lightly, soundlessly he trod the floor. She hoped to be as he was soon. His hand made a left jab; she sidestepped and wound off a roundhouse kick. Her foot was caught and she was flipped onto the mats. She rolled and made a grab for a bow drawing it back to shoot an imaginary arrow at him.

"Better." He paused for a brief moment, considering. "Now. Again."

And so they continued throughout the afternoon, Kagome learning from the spry old master how to tumble without injury, the proper way to twist in the midst of a somersault, the importance of footwork and innovative thinking. She bit back her words as he instructs her, knowing full well that irritating the man would only slow the lesson. _I_ _needs_ _this_, she thought, keeping her face carefully blank. _I need to save my city._

You will never know when an agile step could save your life, he counseled.

Stay light on your feet, do not _plod_ about like a _horse_, he snarls.

You must let yourself be grasped in order for you to take down others. Use my weight, my strength against me, he hisses.

Kagome learned patience more than anything else so far in her lessons. She spaced for a moment, worried that she will be late to pick up her brother from kindergarten.

"_Always_ be aware of others, what have I _told_ you?" he snapped. Kagome grimaced as she twirled away from the beginning of a throw, minding herself. His hand shot out, quick as a whip, but she redirected it fluidly – spun, jammed her forearm against his sternum, stepped around his leg, and toppled him.

Her breath shuddered out of her lungs. She thought that her arms might detach themselves from her torso, she was so exhausted. "That's two hours of my time here. I thank you for all you've taught me. I'll be back the day after tomorrow."

"Your practice has made a show of your progress." Myoga offered her a slight smile. He stood, his hands folded behind his back. "You've done credit to those of your generation, Higurashi. I expect you to build your stamina. Start running _every_ day of the week. It helps with swiftness and lung capacity." He straightened his gi and walked to the edge of the dojo, sliding open the door. "When we'll finish, you'll be able to topple even the strongest of men.

"Yes, sensei. I'll take my leave then." She bowed low, her legs shaking. She had to call Miroku and tell him: she was ready to meet Bloodhound.


	2. Chapter 2

Second installment. Yay. I'm releasing information in her world little by little.

* * *

Hotaru Higurashi sat up in bed suddenly, stricken with racking coughs. Her hand hung lank and without luster, and was falling out in clumps. Kagome appeared in the doorway. "Mama…" Her fists clenched. She knelt down by her mother's bedside. "Can I get you anything, Mama?"

Her mother smiled, sad, face already gaunt and tired. "No. I already have my breathalyzer running. I'm sorry you have to see me like this." The treatment was supposed to have kicked in by that week. Hotaru wished more than ever that her husband had not...she missed simpler times. Her children needed her and she was unable to be there in the most basic of ways. And Kagome…she'd hardened in the most unexpected of ways. Sometimes she saw flashes of the little girl who had so loved fireflies in the summer nights, but it was rare.

Kagome shook her head. "It's fine. Do you want some dinner? I made us some dinner. Broccoli and egg noodles with chicken."

"Sounds delicious." Her mother smiled in between coughs, lank hair falling over her thin shoulders. "I'll try some…." Her words dissolved into coughs. Cancer was unforgiving. Words unsaid hung palpable in the air. Both mother and daughter knew it was only a matter of time. However, she had to give Souta memories of their mother in at least a facsimile of health. That was the least either of them could do for him.

Kagome's lips thinned as her phone beeped. She spared a glance for it. Miroku was contacting her. "Just wait here a moment." She stepped out of the room and tapped it lightly. "Yes?"

"_I thought you might be interested to know that the Bloodhound is willing to meet you."_

Kagome stared at the whitewashed wall opposite her, hating the apartment building for its indifferent anonymity. No one who came before them left any mementos or marks of any kind. She could never feel at home in a place she was unable to make _hers_. "I am. How much longer until I can?"

"_A month. We'd both like for you to get more experience in."_ He sounded slightly tentative. Kagome thought that, perhaps there was more to than that.

She shifted, her foot falling asleep in the uncomfortable school loafers she was made to wear. "Well. That's practical. But I want to start."

"_Kagome, our plans have been in effect for three years now. One more month won't bring us behind schedule."_

"I know. Look, I have to go. I promised Mom dinner while she's home from the hospital."

Effectively ending the conversation, Kagome looked back into her mother's room only to find her deep asleep. Even in slumber she looked tired and mournful. It was becoming hard to recall a time when Hotaru had not been so defeated. Although, in a way, her whole family had been for a long time.

It had not been so tumultuous in the beginning. He would leave sometimes, or expel profanities, throw dishes. Angry explosions were not unexpected after a while, but he was still himself. Until he hurt Souta. Her mother had been strong back then. She had no need to be anymore; Kagome was strong enough for all of them.


	3. Interlude: Prologue

Interlude! This is the prologue. Happened a few years before the first installment. Kagome's more hardened in this universe. This is why.

Also, I don't own Inuyasha.

Also, the reason it's all in flashes is because I go by how it comes to me in my brain.

She's really not handling this well.

* * *

I.

"Miss Higurashi," the therapist said gently. She had pretty hair and perfectly manicured nails. Kagome theorized that the immaculate appearance lent her an air of authority that her soft faux-mother personality would never possess. "It wasn't your fault. He was going to hurt you."

"Okay." Not like they would immediately say that if he had survived.

"Kagome, I'm trying to help you. You need to talk to me."

A sigh. Kagome looked up from a spot she was studying on the couch. The walls were painted baby-blue, the cushions were lavender, the desk was white. She understood. The atmosphere was supposed to soothe. Instead she felt smothered. The woman had no right to tell her anything about the situation. She hadn't been there. Hadn't seen the look in his eyes, the drool dripping as he leaned over her and her brother. Hadn't seen her own mother crying and bleeding on the floor. Hadn't seen the look on her brother's face as he accepted the fact that he might die. "It was my fault. He died. He wasn't in his right mind. I know that."

"Exactly. They aren't going to charge you…"

"I know. I'm a minor, they said. Self-defense." It was harder than the movies depicted to put a knife in a person's heart. Sometimes she could still feel the way the skin gave. Like sawing at overcooked beef. And how, at the very last moment, she could see in his eyes that he was her father just before he died. It was expressed as a tiny flash of sadness, the barest flicker. Then he was gone.

"Now, don't be like that."

"How should I be, then? I killed a man. I killed my father." Her voice trembled saying this, but only a little. "I watched my mother beaten senseless. Tell me, Miss Kaguya Minamoto. How should I be acting?" Her first murder committed at the age of fourteen. She felt nothing. Perhaps, she wonders, she might feel something later. But not now. Not when she had to shut away her emotions and hesitation to protect her brother.

"That man wasn't your father anymore. The drug had burned through his mind."

"That _was_ him. My father. I killed him."

"Very well then." She shuffled her papers. "…Ms. Sango Tsurui found you after you phoned the emergency line, I believe?"

"Yeah. She arrived with a paramedic and ambulance. Held my brother while I helped them clean up the mess."

"The mess." Something was quickly scribbled. "Do you resent your mother at all?"

Kagome played with a loose string in the pillows. She studied the twist of the many strands. "No. She's been sick recently, really weak in the past few months. It's not her fault we got scared. She tried to throw him out months earlier. But like I said. She's been weak."

"So you've been strong for _her_?"

Kagome pulled a face of consternation. "No. I couldn't do anything at first. I started getting braver when he hit Souta." His poor handsome little face was ruined for a few months, but he got better. He would continue to do well. She saw to that. "And before you say it, no. I don't blame my brother. He's only eight."

"Is that why you had to pull a knife on your father, Kagome? To protect him?"

"I had to protect all of us. He would have killed us."

"You don't know that. But I commend you for your idealistic wish to pro-"

"He meant to kill us." Her hands shook a little. She took a deep breath and stilled herself. "Have you ever been hated so much that you could feel it? It hangs in the air and it makes your heart stop and your thoughts run around and you can't move because you know _you know he's going to kill you_." She's shrieking now and throwing the pillows at the woman. "What do _you_ know? You sit in your office all day. _You don't know anything. You studied victims and horrors. I lived it_." She suddenly calmed, her hair in a messy aureole, her eyes furious and red. It was becoming harder for her to sleep at night. She was falling apart bit by bit. "I'm sorry. But I have to go. I need to pick Souta up from school and meet with someone."

"Who?"

"A friend."

II.

"Thank you for helping us. But I have one more favor, if you don't mind." Kagome liked him. He was kind, generally, and good-humored. Intelligent in a way she had not expected, but that was a nice discovery.

She did not like the idea of using someone blatantly but she felt like she had no choice. He was a better pick than most, however. He was highly generous as heirs to giant companies went. He was the chairman of many charities and took a special interest in rehabilitation of addicts and broken women. It was when he encountered her family at the time the press ran with their story, that he became acquainted with her.

"Yes, miss Kagome?"

"I have an idea. I put a lot of hope into it, and I would like it if you joined me." She looked at the city from his penthouse, a long sweeping view of the many businesses he had dipped his fingers it. It was beautiful, of course, but nothing compared to the majesty of Fujiyama on the opposite side of the building.

Miroku, the daddy long legs, the benevolent benefactor, smiled. "I certainly hope it's nothing untoward."

She paced before deciding on her words, her loafers clacking on the hardwood floors. "Make me strong. Like a hero. Or an ally of Justice."

He chuckled softly. A finger played with his watch. "What?"

"I don't want anything special or any powers. It would be weird if you suddenly had geneticists and biochemists at your disposal. I just want to defend myself well. I want a partner. I like the Bloodhound's work. I want to work with him."

"An ally of justice." A black eyebrow lifted. He asked, amused, "How would I get in contact with the Bloodhound? And what would you being doing as an ally of justice?"

"I want to clean up the city. I want to protect people from potential tragedies."

"Bad things happen all the time. We have police for that, Kagome."

"How is that enough?" How was it fair to marginalize the suffering of others? How can anyone become blind to a hurting nation? "You've got money, don't you? You can actually _do_ _something_. Look, I know you're trying to save the city, perhaps the country with your organizations but it's not _enough_. I think if we get to the root of the problem, we can cut it off for good."

"Oh?" She was certainly ambitious. "How will we do that?"

"We can kill everyone who makes it, pushes it. We work our way up. I need help."

He took her gently by the shoulders, this child who became an adult so abruptly. "I can't make you into a criminal, Kagome." It was tempting, but… "The more you kill the more it eats away at you. Until pieces of you that matter die."

"I've already killed. I technically am one. It won't bother me next time."

"Kagome," he admonished. "I can't…" If anyone were to find out about her plans, she would die.

"I have to save others from becoming like me." A tear rolled down her cheek and she stomped her foot. "I don't know what to _do_ with myself anymore. Everything is so boring, it's like looking through glass at the world. I've thrown myself into my studies and archery more than ever. But I want to do more with myself than that. I want to _help_ people."

Miroku stared at her for a long while. She still had some of her baby fat in her face. She would lose that, hunting and training with Myoga. But she was already losing a lot. "You really want to do this?"

"Yes. It's not like I'll be killing every criminal. But we need to figure out who is doing this to people. Families are being hurt. We can help this city. And I know you don't have a lot of trust in the justice system. Please. Please. Help me." She clutched at his arm. "Miroku."

She presented a good idea, but it needed polishing. They needed information. Right now she was going on blind rage and pain. Not that she knew, of course. But, he had seen that look before, the glassy shine to the eyes. "What you're suggesting…"

"If you don't help me, I'll do it on my own. I won't stop."

His lips thinned. She was only fourteen. He could at least prolong the time until she was out, wreaking havoc on unsuspecting drug lords. "I know a man who can help you. His name is Myoga. Just let me think for a few days."

"I'll keep coming here if you don't agree to it."

"I know." He sank back into a chair. "I know."

* * *

Whaddaya think?


	4. Chapter 4

Third installment (technically fourth) of vigilantism. Funfunfun!

* * *

The day started out well enough. If a little dull. She made omu-rice for her and Souta at breakfast, took him to school, got through school and kyuudo (archery). She had eaten lunch with her friend Ayumi and feigned interest in what was apparently the recap of the new drama "Switch Girl". It was when she went on patrol that things started going downhill.

Hr original was a little strung out, but had no problem trying to steal her wallet. Not that she carried one on her hunts. She managed to squeeze some information from him about who sold in certain neighborhoods, and left him a little incapable of running. The second was a little more careful but completely unaware that she followed him to the empty apartment. Still, he was not able to overcome her.

"Huntress! I'm sorry! Look I—I pro-"

She notched an arrow and quickly drew back her arm, breathing with the shot, feeling the strain in her shoulder muscles. And – here, her breath fluttered out of her small form – the arrow flew, immersing itself into the robber's flesh. Without pause she drew another and released. The repellant man fell, cursing. She walked toward him, slowly drawing back the bowstring, the newest arrow trained upon his head.

"If you find a job, get clean, I won't shoot you again. Be warned, the next arrow I fire at you won't go in your thigh or shoulder. It will be your eye," she yanked her arrow out, grimacing at the sluggish spurt of blood. She needed to get out of there before the ambulance she called for him arrived.

"What the _fuck_?" The prone robber sobbed, clutching his leg.

Kagome sighed. It had already been a long night. She was tired, bruised and more than a little panicked. For a second night on the job, she had done quite well. Her first quarry had been tougher, but much less honorable; it was not improbable that there were still finger-marks on her biceps and neck. She adjusted her white fox-mask and gave the robber a sharp blow on the back of his neck, knocking him out.

She still had to report in to Miroku, tell him the original target had been neutralized with minimal threat to herself and that she had taken someone down on the side.

She started home, picked her way through the streets, quietly, carefully as a fox. It was on the former of 4th and 5th in the Shibuya district that she encountered her first superhero. Alpha. The lone wolf of a hero who saved children from burning buildings and kept old women from getting hit by cars. A genuinely good guy, if a little bad with women.

He whirled into sight swift as the wind. Tall and a bit darker skinned than average. She thought he might spend a lot of time out in the sun. He wore the skin of a wolf over his head and half of his face, looking for all the world like a shaman with a biker gimmick. "A fox," he mused, walking in a circle around her. "Clever. In the lore foxes disguise themselves as beautiful women only to kill men and mislead people. You're a little young for that though, aren't you?"

Kagome shrugged, her body tense and ready. "Never know what could happen nowadays. You don't know if I've killed and misled before." She could do this. She could engage in casual banter with a super-powered human. This was easy, she told herself. Like Calculus.

He stopped. "What do you think killing people will achieve?"

"I didn't kill the robber. He tried to hurt me and rob a place. I stopped him."

"I can't believe you're saying this. Look, I've been at the hero gig for a while, and I think you're a little jaded for that. Young too. Go back to doing your homework or something."

"Alpha. You don't know this yet, but I'm going to make a difference. I'm going to fix things." If people could only see the way she does. "Nothing is changing the way you and the police are going. Why can't you be like Firebird?"

"By beating up thugs until they better themselves? Chickadee, I think you're a little wrong."

"Why not? Batman does it in America. I've read about him."

He shuddered. "Batman is _crazy, _yatwit." What kind of man goes around in a batsuit? He paused. "I don't recognize that school uniform. It's not local?"

"It's the uniform of a Catholic school in some place called San Juan. There's kevlar tailored into the blazer."

"San…? Where the hell did you…?"

"Does it matter? Look, you're not doing enough. You do good for the sake of it, but that's not _enough_," she growled softly behind her fox-mask.

"We are the paragons of society. We can't lower ourselves. We are idols, people for children to look up to. Killing isn't a part of that. We get by with public relations, with grim attitudes, with a sense of purpose. You're like a machine-gun that'll go off on anything."

"Probably. I'm going to leave now. Nice talking with you. But you know. Fish to fry. Lunches to make." She turned to walk away but bumped into his wide chest, uncomfortable hitting her head against the tough leather. "How did you – right. Super-speed. So, um. Can I go?"

"This isn't a joke, girl." He grabbed her wrist and, on pure instinct, she whipped her hand upwards and swept her leg behind his in an arc, bringing Alpha's body down hard.

"I never once thought it was. I'm going now." She looked back over her shoulder. "I think it's better if we don't meet like this again."

* * *

We'll delve into how much of a chaebol Miroku is that he can afford to import things so easily and customize it.

How are my action sequences?

Guys. Guys. Guess who Alpha is. Guess.

(I have no idea how Inuyasha and Kagome will meet. I'm still puzzling, but I suspect I'll make a second interlude for when it comes to me.)


	5. Chapter 5

Another little snippet. I'm so sorry it's slow but I wanted to try this experimental thing and I'm remembering flash fiction and trying to ground myself and _ohgodwhy_

Also. Sango's here. More of her character will be explored. I had to edit it, I'm sorry.

* * *

"Hello, miss. May I sit here?" An incredibly well-dressed man carrying a book smiled down at Sango. She sputtered her tea a little, spilling on her hand.

"Damn. Uh. I mean. Gosh darn. Sure. You can sit there. I'm just taking lunch." She gestured to her hamburger and vegetables. "What language is that book in?"

"Ah. The Prince? It's in Italian."

"Italian?" Disbelief colored her voice.

"I've studied overseas for a while." A brief twinkle appeared in his violet eyes. Sango had not thought men's eyes could actually twinkle in real life. Surely it only happened in trashy romance novels. "Such an adorable place, this." He gestured to the chocolate brown walls and red accents. "Mei's Café. Has a certain charm to it."

"I'm personally a fan of the maplewood bookcases lining the walls." She glanced at him during the lull in conversation. "I... What are you doing here? You don't seem like the type to enjoy hole-in-the-wall cafes."

"Don't I?" The sapphire on his cufflinks sparkled ironically in the afternoon sun.

"No. you don't."

"I must try harder to blend then, hm?" His smile was vague and enigmatic, as though everything he saw gave him the barest flicker of amusement. "Everyone needs a temporary reprieve from life sometimes. Cafe's are mine. And I intend to enjoy my time here." A hint of weariness there, veiled with good humor. "I don't think that'll be too hard."

Sango grinned. "Oh, really?"

* * *

It was a beautiful night, for the city. The light pollution had somehow not managed to outdo the light of the stars. The moon was full and gibbous with possibilities. Down in the Shibuya district Inuyasha decided that Huntress was a magnet for death. "Duck, idiot!" he snapped over his shoulder. She just stood, as if waiting or daring the bullets to graze her, hit her. It was kind of unbelievable how many times she had come close to dying in the past hour. Bullets, choking, falls, drops, beatings. She would have slipped off of the side of a building if he were not there to catch her.

A man tried to jump her but she pivoted, twisted her wrist – and he slammed down onto the concrete of the sidewalk. "Try-hard." She murmured before shooting a companion of the assailant's in the chest.

Inuyasha ambled over to her. "You need to be more careful. I can't be spending time worrying over your safety when I could be beating up the evil of the city."

"Worrying over my welfare is that consuming for you?" She sounded genuinely puzzled.

"Yeah. Because my reputation is _so_ good, I can _absolutely_ leave you - my publicly recognized partner - to get killed. That'll go over well with Nu-Edo citizens." He took her shoulder and guided her in the direction of Miroku's rendezvous point.

Huntress huffed. "You don't have to be a bitch about it."

He snorted.

* * *

Sango grimaced, her long brunette hair pulled into a twist over her shoulder. The blush-pink sheathe dress she had slipped into for the evening had seemed like a good idea when she decided on it with her brother. She crossed her legs at the ankles demurely, the leather stilettos knocking against the spikes of the heel. The dress was a little tight; thankfully the hemming was around the knee. She sighed, fingering her complementary black clutch. Limousines were far more uncomfortable than she thought them to be. If only because of the atmosphere rather than the sleek brown leather of the seats.

"Sango, please. I'd like you to enjoy yourself." Miroku leaned forward from his position opposite her and touched his fingertips to her knee. "Relax."

It's not that she wasn't relaxed it was that she was unused to men taking an interest in her. She was pretty enough, wore make-up, athletic, tall - all attractive qualities on sight. However, her general disposition was to be recalcitrant and grim, she was known as tough within her district, the "Hard-ass Sakurai". She had not minded so much initially. Being intimidating was fun at first, watching men's eyes fall to the ground near her feet as she stared them down. Often they were respectful. That was wonderful, but she found herself unable to switch off. Her stern expression was near permanent at this point. And so, when a man attempted to get to know her, she lacked the normal social skills to tell him "Yes".

Sango grimaced. "You're not trying to buy me off or something, are you?"

"Not at all." He plopped himself down beside her and lifted his hand to her lips, gently kissed her knuckles. His rare violet gaze met her brown. "Would you feel more comfortable if I sat far from you?"

"No," she breathed. Christ, this man. They didn't make 'em like this where she came from. The boys in blue were like her brothers. But, this man…. "Oh, I'm fine with you. Here. Next to me, I mean."

Miroku smiled slightly. "We'll dine in the penthouse where I'm currently staying. Be forewarned, the view is rather large."

Sango huffed out a laugh, her eyes wide. _How did I get here_, she asked herself. _How am I talking to the heir of a major conglomerate? This is insane. Oh god. Oh god._ She quickly downed a glass of champagne, luxuriating in the feeling of little golden bubbles fluttering in her stomach. She let herself acknowledge that this was not the greatest decision. "Your suit is beautiful. Where did you get it?" She had a predilection for pantsuits and blazers.

"It's tailor-made." A myriad of lights flashed across his face as they weaved through Shibuku dristrict traffic.

"Ah. Anyone local?"

"I'm afraid not. Custom-design and fit from Fioravanti and his shop based in New York. Made of merino wool."

She felt slightly dismayed. Her apprehension caught up with her. "…Do I not look…?"

"You are _exceptional_ tonight, Sango. You look lovely all on your own." He extended his hand to hers, almost tentative as though he were insecure on how to continue with her, but still willing to try.

She could not fathom the idea of his nervousness. She had the initial impression that he was strong in personality with the potential to match wits. "Ah." She looked out of the tinted windows, watching the city lights flash and blur together. "I look forward to tonight."

Miroku grasped her hand lightly. "As do I."

* * *

He was late. Inuyasha was growing impatient. Huntress must have sensed it because she snapped at him, saying that she was going to sit at the other end of the rooftop if he refused to calm down. He tilted his head back and let the wind sweep through his braids and the trinkets woven into them. It used to be that the two of them would keep contact through everything, especially during his academy days. Though, back then, it was nearly required for Miroku to check up on him due to the amount of trouble he attracted with his misdirected anger. Things were different now, of course. He _had_ direction. A purpose. A need wreak vengeance upon the man who killed his fiancee. Before Huntress, he struggled with nailing Naraku's contacts down and lacked a basic understanding of subtlety.

If only Miroku would tell him the new location for their next hit. Inuyasha let his eyes shut to listen to the city around him and just breathe the air. So much was happening that he could hear. Sirens in the distance, the crackling of heat against plaster, a mother's reassurances to her frightened child; _"shhh, no. we have people to protect us now, we can be safe."_

Huntress came to stand beside him. She touched his arm lightly, then pulled away. "We'll get him another day. It's just another setback."

He stood closer to the ledge. Frustration clouded his thoughts. He was useless in this state. "I'm going. You can come with me if you want." He offered her his hand. There was a pause. She took it, shouldering her quiver and they leaped.


	6. Chapter 6

Inuyasha's boots slapped against the wet pavement. Rain season had just ended for the nation. It tended to muddle over-powering scents, so he enjoyed it, but the wet air that hung so heavily he loathed. He cursed the fact that he wasn't blessed with speed like Alpha or mind-reading like the Negotiator. But when he jumped an entire building with near upon no effort, when he remembered his strength – he really appreciated his father's blood. Although, compared to the sophistication of the Soldier's techniques and knowledge of martial arts he was severely lacking. Still, he was resourceful to a fault and possessed a super-strength the like of which the nation has never seen. He could make anything a weapon; as was the case with the pipe he jacked in a dingy alleyway.

"_Hey_," he shouted at the pimp he was pursuing, "come here, ratshit." He jumped over and landed on the other side of Mr. Peachy, skidding to a stop but keeping his momentum.

The (deceptively) swift (fat) man's panicked eyes widened and he tried to swat at Inuyasha who ducked and jabbed the pipe lightly at the guy's kneecap. There was an audible crunch. The man screamed and collapsed. His peach-pink zoot-suit was torn, money fluttering out of his pockets to settle on the street beside him.

Inuyasha smirked beneath his dog-mask, crouching next to the man. "You're gonna tell me everything you know about the Thunder Brothers. And I know you know 'em. You got their tattoo on your bicep." He poked the man with the pipe. The man winced against the cold metal. "I wanna know if their distribution really falls into Naraku's territory. I wanna know what they do for fun. I wanna know where they eat and sleep."

"You don't have to be that forceful with them, Bloodhound," a girl's soft voice rang out. "I'm sure he'd tell you anyway. Just use your reputation." She came to stand by his side, nudging the man with her foot.

"Did the Director send you, Huntress?" Inuyasha frowned. Miroku always did poke his nose into things unnecessarily. Granted, they were supposed to be a team but she had a compassionate heart. She had not yet grown accustomed to his interrogation techniques. Or the blood. Although, she was tough enough she always seemed to push herself further.

"Yeah. He did." The girl's cloud-grey eyes narrowed behind the mask. She sighed, palming her bow. "I'm not here to stop you. We've got other work after you're done, though."

"Cool." Inuyasha turned to the now-silent man on the ground. "So, here's how this is gonna go. You tell me everything I wanna know or I crush your dick with my pretty black boot."

"You can't be serious." His jowls shook with fear.

The huntress chuckled.

Inuyasha cocked his head to the side. "Try me."

* * *

I'm totally channeling canon-angry-before-I-became-involved-with-Kagome Inuyasha here. He was a complete cocksure boy before she changed him/he matured. And I honestly think he'd have grown up to be bitter, sarcastic, impatient, arrogant... So I'm drawing on an Inuyasha who didn't hate his fiance, who watched the love of his life get killed. So, um.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Kagome. I am sorry I did these things to you. Please forgive me for killing off your father and such.

Disclaimer: In what universe do I have any claim to Inuyasha?

* * *

Kagome groaned as her head fell on the desk in her class. Sleep was growing sparse during the nights and laying on her back had become difficult; the bruises on her back seemed to be spreading. Ayumi shot her a look, two parts concerned and one part exasperated.

"Miss Higurashi." The instructor walked over to her desk and tapped a finger. "You'll meet me during your break."

"Yes ma'am." Stifling her yawns was growing difficult. "I apologize. Please continue."

The austere woman harrumphed, her grey slacks swishing as she returned to her place at the front of the class. "And so begins the …of Tokugawa Ieyasu. If you'll turn your pages, you'll find that…"

Again the conversation faded for Kagome. Her head began to droop, her eyes began to close. She felt as though her muscles creaked every time she moved to turn a page in her textbook. Last night had been torture for her. She was unable to stop fighting. Bloodhound had to carry her back to her apartment late. She was barely able to make it to school on her bike. _Should've asked Bloodhound for a ride._

Break time between classes was called, and she went to the teacher's lounge. She tapped her knuckles gently on the bookcases lining the office. Her teacher glanced at her. "You wanted to see me?"

"Miss Higurashi. I understand that your home life has been tough since your mom started treatment and your father…well." She folded her hands. "I know you can do better. Do you know what the last score on your paper was?"

"Yes." Kagome shifted on her feet. "I didn't have the time for research. I'm sorry."

"Kagome, you've been steadily getting worse in your work ethic. Is there anything going on that you need to talk about?"

Her father was dead. She was hurting people. She ran around with a super-powered man and never got to know him. She trusted strangers with her life more than those she knew personally. Every night was spent avoiding broken bones and fractures, contusions and welts. Did she have anything she needed to talk about? "No. I'm alright. Just…distracted."

Her phone beeped. She glanced at it. Miroku had called. "Excuse me but…this is important."  
Her instructor's eyes narrowed and she waved Kagome off.

"_Kagome. I'm sorry. A contact of mine confirmed a break-in at your house. Your mother was able to contact the police in time, and was unharmed. Some things are missing. I'm sending Bloodhound to pick you up after school. He'll be waiting on the roof."_ He paused. Took a breath_. "I never thought…."_ The message ended. Kagome's hand shook so violently that she dropped her phone. The clacking as it hit tiles bothered her. She retrieved it, her grip crushing.

"Something the matter?"

"I need to…" she bolted out of the door.

Bathroom stalls were meant to be kicked, Kagome decided later. They took anything and any dent popped right back out with proper application of force. She sniffled a little, wiped her nose with square of toilet paper. Her own apartment. Her own. Hers. She made her way from the bathroom to the bottom of the stairs that led to the rooftop climbing each step tiredly.

She would fix this. Her goals were not happening fast enough. She had to fix this.

She needed her mask.

* * *

"Hey," Bloodhound touched her arm. "You couldn't have guessed."

"I know." The little clay sculptures her brother had made when her dad was alive were in pieces. Chairs were toppled. Books were torn. "But I don't think this was a robbery." Her fingers alighted upon the carving of words into her stove.

**_Big aspirations for a little girl._**

"We need to move out." Kagome looked over her shoulder at Bloodhound's impassive dog mask. His eyes stared at her, big and golden-brown. "I need to get my brother and mom somewhere safe."


	8. Chapter 8

Yay, next one.

Kagome's finding it hard to keep it together.

* * *

Miroku tapped the arm of his leather chair patiently while waiting for the Bloodhound to arrive in his suite. While coarse and oftentimes persistent to the point of obsessive, Inuyasha was essential for his plan to succeed. To take remarkable individuals with drive and supernatural talent – train them in the martial arts, sponsor their families, remind them that people have the power to fight back – to give people a hope for the city was his ultimate goal. He contemplated his home, his birthplace. Nu-Edo city. It was originally a place of prosperous growth – a city of the future. It had grown rotten, the region around it becoming affected by slow-spreading cruelty, rather like a wound afflicted with gangrene. Soon, the body of the country would be unable to function properly and the affliction would overtake all of Japan.

This had to be stopped.

There was a knock on the door. "Enter," he called. A slight, dark-haired girl in navy blazer and green skirt strode into the room. "Ah. Miss Higurashi. What brings you here? I thought you had something to attend to tonight." He gestured for her to take a seat beside him.

"I've finished. It's," she paused, "a favor I'm calling in." Her body sank into plush cushions. She removed her fox-mask. He studies her. The girl had cheekbones that could cut glass. Her eyes were alight with anger. "I need you to…can you take care of my brother?"

Miroku's astonishment lasted for a second before it became concern. "Did something go wrong with your mother's treatment?"

"She's been moved to the hospital. Could you take in Souta for a little while?" Anticipating dismay, she rushed her words. "I know he's not little anymore, but I'm scared of leaving him alone all the time. I don't trust after-school programs. Miroku, please, I _can't_ leave him alone. I don't know how to take care of him."

"Understandable." He considered her, the embittered set of her mouth, the hooded sadness in her eyes. He entertains the thought for a moment that, perhaps, this is too big of an undertaking for a high school girl. The moment passes. "Have you thought about quitting?"

"Never. I know I can't do this forever, but for now, I'll do all I can to bring the man that ruined my family down. I have to. We can't let more Crystal get out on the streets like this. No one will be safe until this stops."

Miroku ran a hand over his watch, platinum, imported from the Americas. His father's fortune had served him well upon his death. Though his dalliances had done nothing to uphold the family reputation – something that Miroku had been working tirelessly to correct. "I have extra rooms. I'll care for him as well as have my personal maid assist me. Your brother will be safe here."

An almost inaudible sigh escaped her lips. "Thank you."

"You may stay here as well."

"No. No, I don't think I can. I'll see him often. He's downstairs now."

Miroku let out a short laugh. She had already counted on him agreeing with her. "You'll rest in a safe area, then?"

Kagome stood, "I'll be alright."


	9. Chapter 9

Chronologically speaking, each chapter can happen within months of the preceding one, or just a few days.

* * *

"Where are you going?" Ayumi sat up in bed, clicking on the light from her table-lamp. Her soft curls bounced as she tilted her head back. "You've been leaving every night. It's kind of getting hard to ignore." Her fingers played with the frills on the western comforter covering her bed, betraying dread.

Kagome affected a bright tone to her voice. "Please don't worry, Ayumi. It's just some extra-curriculars."

"Why are you taking your bow and arrows? I know for a fact that Kyuudo club practice _doesn't_ run this late. And even if it did, you don't need more practice, you've held a bow in your hand since you were four." She raised an eyebrow, cross. They were best friends and Kagome couldn't tell her this?

Kagome took a breath. "I…please don't ask me. I'm begging you. I'm going to meet someone. I have a job." Of a sort. "It's how I'm paying for mom's medical bills. This job is really important to me. I can't be late."

Ayumi scowled. "Are you prostituting yourself? I know these men are rich but that's no excuse because that's not-"

"_No._ Cripes, Ayumi. That's not what I'm doing."

She knew of no late-night jobs that required a school-girl outfit other than prostitution and cosplay cafes. "Then _why_ are you dressed like a- like…oh, no. Oh, Kagome, no. You're not…"

She nodded an affirmation. "Huntress." There was a beat, a pause in which she could feel the building alarm behind her friend's eyes. She shifted nervously on her feet, boots squeaking.

Incredulity spread across Ayumi's pretty features. "What the hell? _What the hell?_ You're not – you can't – you're just a girl! You're _seventeen_." The words spilled from her mouth. None of what was said had processed well.

Kagome smiled softly. "A strong, capable girl with expert marksmanship. And basic knowledge of gymnastics."

She rolled out of her bed and began to pace. "Do you even know how to _fight_? Can you? What are you thinking? You're…" She paused to collect herself. "This is why you've been coming back with bruises. I saw you with a limp…you don't know what went through my head."

"That was when I was in training. I haven't been active until this year. And I do know how to fight. I'm close to being first-_dan_ black belt. Aikido. It's about using your opponents' force against them, which is perfect for people without big muscles. Like me."

"And, what, you think you'll be fine?" She snapped, "Just because you've got a black belt – "

"Brown belt."

" – and you can shoot an arrow everything's fine? That you can do this? You're not invincible, Kagome. You don't _have_ some kind of power, like Bloodhound or Alpha or Shifter or Firebird or that stupid rich kid Hakudoushi."

"You think I don't know that? Ayumi, I've been stabbed, hit, shot at. I've had bruises in places I didn't know you could _get_ them. But they help me. They're my friends; they protect me like I do for them."

"Is that what this is about? Because _my_ brother's the one who introduced your dad to Crystal?"

Kagome's eyes widened. "Why would you even think that? No. _No_. I just want to get to the root of the problem. I don't get involved with other things. I have a task I have to complete."

"So this _is_ about Crystal then."

How she wished her friend could see everything the way she did. She only wanted revenge in the beginning, but it became so much more than that. She wanted to help people. She was no superhero, nothing for children to admire. She tried, though, tried like hell to make Nu-Edo a safe place for them to grow up in. for her brother to grow up in. "Tons of families have lost people to drugs in general! Look what it's done to our families. Ayumi, this shouldn't have happened to us. Our families belonged to clans. We were _happy_. Other people? Others have gone through worse. And now…"

"Now we're on our own," she finished. She bowed her head, hugged herself. Kagome had always been bright, lively optimistic. The change had been gradual, and she was still lively, but there was something that changed. "Alright. I get it. Go." It was hard to argue with someone on a vendetta. Someone out to protect those who hadn't been affected by the Crystal yet.

Kagome shouldered her quiver, then paused. "Are we still…?" Her combat boots squeaked as she fidgeted. Perhaps Ayumi would be angry when she returned – if she were allowed to return at all. Her lips pressed, preparing for the worst. Even though they'd been best friends for nearly two decades, there have been months where they avoided each other after a spat. She hoped this time would be different.

Ayumi read the expression on her best friend's face, nonplussed. "Of course. I love you, Kagome – you're practically my sister. You do still have a place here, if you want."

"Thanks. I have to go meet Bloodhound." The girl known as Huntress checked her cellphone. "I'm late. Oh god. He's probably freaking out right now." She hit the screen and waited patiently until someone picked up. An unearthly growl sounded through the device: _"Where the fuck are you? You better not have ruined this, you bitch or I swear I'll beat your skinny ass into the concrete."_

Ayumi lifted an eyebrow. She huffed a sigh and threw back her bedcovers. "I'll pretend our city's hero didn't just say that. Get going, Huntress. We'll talk more about this later."

Kagome nodded and climbed on the window ledge. "I'm coming, don't get your panties in a bunch…yeah, you just _try_ that. See how far you get…"

And she was gone. Not, Ayumi hoped, for the last time. "Come back safe."

She lay back against her nest of pillows. The light was out and through the window, the sounds of a city reverberated through her room. A city that her friend was fighting for. She turned on her side and cried for a long, long time.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note**: You guys. I am so sorry, but I am finally satisfied with what I've written. and here it is. Feel free to give feedback or tell me if you think this story needs something.

I am in the process of re-doing/finishing Phantasms. I don't even know if I should re-do it, though. I mean I was so happy with what it was. I had planned a second "book" for it, actually, as well. Same for Nine Soldiers. Three "books" for that one.

* * *

A blast of fire melted the gun in the yakuza's hand. "Fuck!" Blisters formed quickly, skin reddening and puckering. The man kicked out at Firebird but she flitted away, playfully soaring around the yakuza.

"This is the last time." Alpha appeared behind the yakuza and quickly chopped the back of his neck. The man fell. "You won't be committing crimes anymore. It's the jailhouse for you." The sound of sirens was growing loud. Police were coming. Firebird and Alpha fled, disappearing in an abandoned building and making their way to the rooftops. The day was cool, unusually so for a spring morning.

Firebird smirked. "Why do you sound like super sentai from an old animation?"

"I'm the classic kind of hero, can't you tell?"

"Where's your spandex?"

"I said _classic_ not impractical."

Firebird smiled at Alpha, adoring the discomfort she caused him. She snaked around him, twisting in the air. "Something wrong, Alpha wolf?"

He shifted. Smirked a little. "You're naked."

"Technically. If I can even have a body to be naked." She never completely understood how it was possible for her to have consciousness when her entire body was made of fire, nor did she understand how she was able to turn it off at will and wear human skin again. Perhaps she should have gone to college for the study of thermodynamics instead of going to beauty school. But then she would never have had as much fun. "My flames cover my important parts."

"_Cover_ is relative here." Alpha swung around, continuing to walk across the rooftop of an apartment building.

She followed, a little tentative. "Where are you going? Would you like any help?"

"Why don't you go help Shifter?"

Firebird laughed, flames crackling. "He does fine on his own. He's an excellent role model. Haven't you noticed?"

His words were gritted out. "_Yes_ _I_ _have_." Not like he was a bad one. He just had more of an edge. Much less of a _fun_ trickster image than shifter. Well, a lone wolf image. He could not even begin to describe the image Firebird presented.

His attention shifted elsewhere as he spotted Bloodhound soaring overhead, a slight girl riding him piggyback. It should have been a comical sight, watching a man bound from rooftop to rooftop with a girl on his back.

"Stop!" She was practically hissing. "Let me back there!" A wild length of black hair fanned behind her.

"The Huntress and Bloodhound." Firebird gazed after them as they continued to bicker. They disappeared from view after a while.

Alpha scoffed, "I don't understand why they're getting so much…it feels like they're gloryhounds."

"No. I don't think so," Firebird mused. "It feels like a vendetta. They're just trying to help people." She remembered clearly her own reasons for doing what she did. Society tended to look down on females of strength, however. Society abhorred aberrations and deviance especially in the form of that which could not be understood. She was met with resistance in during her beginnings much as she predicted Huntress would. "I support her."

"Do you?"

"Yes. I do." She smiled. "I think Nu-Edo will finally change for the better."

"Then, why don't you do what she does?"

"I can exactly burn people alive. I'll be seen as psychotic if I did what she does. There's no way I can just pinpoint someone's ankle and start burning them so as to stop them, or punch them with a ball of fire to the face. They need to see that someone more…familiar won't take their shit anymore. I'm not human enough in their eyes for that."

Alpha stared down at the sheen of the roof below them, industrial and steel. His own hands were sometimes clawed, and his ears were just the tiniest bit more pointed than others, this being almost unnoticeable to others. He sported fangs on certain days of the month and a bad temper at times. But he hid that from everyone. He raised his eyes to hers. "You're human enough for me, Firebird."


	11. Chapter 11

I am so sorry about not updating for a long time. I had to be sure of the next chapter and the chapter after.

* * *

Manten's fist slammed into the side of his head. For a moment, it was as though he was floating through the clouds, his head cottony and dazed. Inuyasha tumbled away, thick black and silver braids whipping about, and rolled onto his feet, taking off in a mad dash after Hiten. Arrows whizzed past him and caught the man in the ankle; unaffected, he bent and yanked the arrows out of his leg.

In desperation, Inuyasha threw a brick from the sidewalk, narrowly missing and shattering a shop window. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_." He needed to talk to Miroku about neighborhood clean-up. The guy had enough money to rectify anything; he was practically Bruce Wayne.

"Bloodhound!" Huntress called from a window of the brick building beside him. Inuyasha glanced up in time to watch her pitch forward and scramble to his feet: "Catch." She somersaulted backwards, and felt his arms close around her within moments, her quiver digging into her back. "Thanks." She brushed imaginary dirt off of her pleated skirt and shook back her hair.

He set her gently on her feet, with all the care one reserves for handling and planting seedlings. He would hate to hurt her; she accomplished that on a daily basis, constantly tumbling into trouble. "Shoot him, and I'll keep Manten off of you. I know he's got a thing for fucking up women." Inuyasha muttered sourly, "This is the one time I wouldn't mind Alpha being here." Super-speed really cuts down on time and effort.

Huntress notched an arrow and drew. "We can handle it." This time it caught Hiten in the back. He fell with a grunt.

Manten chuckled. "Tough, aren't you little girl?" The hulking bald man strode forward. "I ain't like my brother. He's all about finesse and weapons. I just hit shit till it goes down."

Huntress backed away, pulling on her weapon. "What a coincidence. So does he." She came to stand over Hiten, an arrow trained on his eye. "Bloodhound."

Inuyasha looked over his shoulder at her. "Yeah?"

"Sic 'im."

He grinned beneath the dog-mask and turned back to Hiten's brother. He drew his fist back and jumped, pounding into Manten's broad face. Blood covered his fist. He pummeled into his head, pushing the unnaturally thick-skinned man back step by gradual step. Manten grunted and attempted to swing at him but Inuyasha dropped to the ground, leaped up and clothes-lined him. A mid-air roundhouse kick sent the dealer slammed into the building across the street. The silver chain slung diagonally over his shoulder clinked merrily as he loped over to where Manten was laying on the ground. "Heard you were distributing a new narcotic under direction of Naraku. Wanna tell me who your contacts are?"

Manten spat blood between his loosened teeth. "You only got the drop on me cuz you're quick." His form shuddered, palm digging into the paved concrete. "I can't tell you shit, Bloodhound. We both know I'll die if I do."

Inuyasha growled in frustration. "I'll break every bone in your body if you _don't_."

"You don't fucking _scare_ me, Bloodhound. Whatever you do, Naraku'll do me worse."

Huntress spoke up from where she was watching. "Look, I can't promise safety, but we have a few cop friends. You should be safe for maybe three months. Just until we get Naraku on trial."

Manten eyed her and pulled a grimace with his broken face. "I'm not saying shit."

Inuyasha shrugged and slammed Manten's face into the pavement. Huntress stared at him.

"What?"

"I—nothing." She walked over to him and inspected his knuckles. Some of the skin on them had been scraped off. "Do you need anything for that?"

"Nah. Can't really feel it." He flexed his hand. "Come on. Let's call our director. We'll let the beat cops handle clean-up."


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't have any rights to Inuyasha or the franchise.

I like to think Inuyasha could be a sweetie. In some capacity. Getting into fights with people does have consequences. Also, what she makes isn't fake, it's a thing I do when I'm on a low budget.

* * *

Inuyasha gripped her tight around her waist, her body occasionally flopping on his shoulder. She had carelessly gotten herself knocked out during the brawl. It was worrying, being partnered with a young women who possessed such drive. He was sometimes frightened that, no matter what the two of them did, she might never rest or stop fighting. He thought perhaps she saw no reason to stop. People would always get hurt or meet with trouble. Making a difference in their lives would mean the world to her, that much he knew from spending time around her. She was kind when she could be, but stoic when that mask was on – which was the entire time Inuyasha knew her.

It took some time getting back to his apartment. He tried to carry her as gently as possible on the way in, stumbled a bit before stepping more carefully.

He laid her out on his futon and for the shortest of moments she woke, she whispered a broken "thank you" before sleeping truly. He sat under the window, watching the rise and fall of her belly as she breathed, unwilling to sleep beside her.

The morning greeted Kagome with a harsh light and she cringed as the pain in her face woke her more. She sat up slowly. This was officially the last time she would allow herself to kiss pavement. A glance at her surroundings told her that her glimpse of Bloodhound tucking her into bed last night was not a dream. The dim light overhead was still flickering and convenience store food-wrappings surrounded her futon sparsely on the floor. The walls were bare of pictures and ornamentation. The blankets were plain but warm and heavy.

She attempted to clamber to her feet and took a steadying breath. Nauseating. Moving was nauseating. How did she think she could have escaped a concussion? She rolled onto her knees and tried pushing herself upward as a toddler might, rocking back and forth unsteadily. Everything ached. It had been a long time since Kagome felt that way. Probably eleven months. She walked over to the kitchen area, checked cupboards and the fridge. Instant ramen. A few eggs. Pears. Half-eaten rice balls of the grocery store variety. She could see little bits of plum or fish sticking out of them.

There was a sudden and desperate need for home-made food. However, people would start questioning her if she went out and buy anything like this. Kagome huffed. "Okay, then. I'll just…maybe…. Crap." A noise at the door had her running to the opposite wall, hunched low, despite the protesting muscles in her back. "Ow, ow, ow."

She grabbed a nearby lamp and brandished it before her. Quiet footsteps and the rustling of plastic sounded through the apartment. She feared the worst. A man stepped into view, tall for their country. Probably multiracial. His skin was darker than she was used to seeing in the region she lived in. Wide eyes surveyed the room before landing on her.

"You look different."

"What?"

"In my head, I imagined you'd be older. And your face is more beat up than I realized. Guess you're not going out today." He went to set the bags he carried onto the counter by the stove. "I thought you might be hungry so I got stuff."

The rising panic in her chest dissipated. "Bloodhound?"

"Huntress?" he retorted. "Yeah. So, are you gonna make something with this or not?"

"I…yes, I'm starving. Where are your knives?" She groaned inwardly as she talked, her jaw clacking.

He produced one from his pocket.

"That's fine, I guess. How did you know what to get?"

"I asked an old broad what makes a good meal."

Kagome laughed. "Can you get me the eggs from the fridge?" She slowly removed green onions from the bag and began to chop them.

"Just sit down in that chair." Bloodhound watched her impatiently for a minute before snatching the knife from her. "Sit _down_. Tell me what you need and I'll do it."

"Three quarter pieces. Thanks." She had him put eggs into a pot of water and set it on boil.

"Yer going too slow," he snarked.

"I also need you to chop – is this chicken? Chop that. Doesn't matter how."

Bloodhound a packet of ramen noodles, tore open the bag, threw away the seasoning, and started to boil the noodles with the eggs. "Why aren't you using the seasoning? That's the best part."

Kagome closed her eyes and allowed herself to slouch to rest her muscles. "I can make something better. Do you have lemons?" When he shook his head no she thought for a second and asked for hot sauce which he procured from a cupboard. He squeezed some into scratched pan as well as vegetable oil and mixed. "Why'd you bring me back here?"

"Couldn't just leave you." He shifted his feet, uncomfortable with the turn of conversation. "You're supposed to be my partner. I have to make sure you're safe."

She shot him a look. "Supposed to be? Thanks, I guess. Do you not know how to cook?"

"I can fry eggs. And make ramen. And boil rice. I burn the bottom of the pot."

"That's fine. You can steam some rice ahead of time in preparation for dinner." Kagome watched him dice mushrooms silently. He had long fingers with nails that were a little ragged. His skin had bronzed and freckled at the knuckles, most likely from being in the sun a lot. "What's your day job?"

"Watering flowers."

"Are you lying to me?"

He went to roll up the futon and clear space on the floor. "No. I like outdoors, but I like the city. So I garden. Do landscaping jobs." And so they continued in discourse, enjoying one another's company greatly. It was in silent agreement that their true names were not spoken. In less than ten minutes the meal was ready; Bloodhound procured a rather large bowl from a random cabinet and two sets of finely lacquered chopsticks. "You eat from the bowl," he said, "I'll eat from the pan." He helped her from her chair over to the table he set out on the floor.

Kagome managed a smile. "Alright." The meal was silent and slow for the most part. "Thank you."

Bloodhound paused. "For?"

"For taking care of me."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Don't worry I haven't abandoned this nor do I plan to. Culinary School's been way busy tho.

* * *

Kagome often thought of the very first time she picked up a bow, especially on days like this, where everything is rain and the damp soaks into her bones. She had chubby hands back then, and her hair had not yet had luster. She remembered she used to watch archery contests with her father and he would hold her in his lap as she chattered on happily. She had not yet learned the concept of addressing oneself as "I" so instead used her own name; that was what everyone called her and so it was how she would call herself.

She had been a shy child, but bright and energetic around her peers and father. Her shrieks were mischievous and exuberant. The trees in their first home were her favorite. After many mishaps involving attempts to climb them (she fell a lot), Papa used to put her on his shoulders so her hands could brush the tips of the leaves with her tiny fingers. She used to just lay in the middle of the garden sometimes and let the sun soak into her skin, feeling the heat touch her face like a friend.

She remembered how her father used to be a titan in her eyes, a being that could change her entire world, who cast shadows over her. He was a man who eclipsed the sun. He had already had crows' feet laugh-lines at the corners of his eyes. He knew how to be happy and taught Kagome how to walk through trees without stumbling, taught her names of flowers and trees.

There were times when Kagome was with Souta that she thought of how her father's arms so easily lifted her; he used to be incredibly strong. She mused at the fact that she inherited her father's build while Souta inherited their mother's face. Would she inherit anything else? His weaknesses? She seemed to have inherited his physical strength.

Perhaps it was lucky that Bloodhound made no effort to learn of her past, or he would suspect her to have the same capacity for cruelty and rage that her kind father did. He once asked why she had so much control over herself and her voice and her actions during a run.

She was unable to answer him.

And so, here she sat, on a bleak and heavy Monday, hanging out of a window ledge in the rain and fog.

Remembering.


	14. Chapter 14

I refuse to abandon this story. Culinary School has gotten like 20 times more demanding than I realized it would, but I will not abandon these stories.

But yeah. Kagome's still a teenaged girl. I think she'd like teen things, even if she could disarm a man twice her weight with an ankle.

* * *

Kagome had promised herself a calm, normal day. She had promised herself a day without Huntress, one of rest and comfort and the mundane. And it was because of this promise that she found herself sitting across from a classmate. He was good-looking, sweet, excessively charming… He had dyed his hair a light sandy brown (as was the fashion with boys now) and had looped thin metal-tipped cord around his neck. The date was going well with Hojo Hirota – that was his name – so far consisting of the amusement park, rides, and riding on the back of Hojo's scooter and gentle touches. So there she was, sitting in a café, enjoying a small strawberry-topped cake. It was light and fluffy and perfect. Occasionally their feet touched under the table and she allowed herself to smile at him. She liked him. There was a certain thrill to brushing her hand against his, skin on skin, especially as society did not allow for public displays. She enjoyed walking the line.

The café was cute, Mei's Café was the name, full of kitschy old books and open-faced sandwiches. Little triangles of bread piled with fruit and cream cheese, tiny chocolates, small bean-filled dumplings. The clientele were soft-spoken except for this one man….

"And so," Hojo was saying, "I decided to run the marathon for the health cleanse and I've been doing long-distance ever since." He fiddled with the edge of a napkin. "So how did you get into archery?"

Her attention snapped back to him and she tried in vain to recall most of their conversation. "I…when my father was still alive, he used to let me watch archery competitions we held in the shrine." Fond memories, those. The twang of the bowstrings and the quiet breathing and the wind in the trees were the clearest aspects she could recall of those days.

"A Shrine?" Hojo smiled a little again and Kagome wondered if that was his default expression. "Is it a Buddhist temple?"

"Shinto." She toyed with the iced coffee in front of her, twisting the cup round on its saucer. A lock of hair fell forward and Hojo reached forward to brush it back. Kagome stiffened at the contact; it was very bold of him and entirely unexpected. He pulled back.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"No, it's okay. I'm okay, it's just a reflex." She heard a crash suddenly coming from the direction of a man sitting with a woman. Her head was bowed and her mouth was tight. She seemed frightened. The man was leaning forward and he had her arm in such a tight grip and before Kagome knew it she was standing in front of the table. "Is there a problem here?"

"Kagome," Hojo hissed, "Kagome, what are you doing?"

She ignored him stoutly and continued to glare at the cruel man, hands fisted at her hips.

She heard a whisper, only, "_Huntress_." A different voice called her name this time. It sounded as though…sounded rather similar to Bloodhound. Her eyes scanned the room. He was here, _here in Mei's_, in daylight, among civilians. Here, without a mask.

He met her gaze across the restaurant and she could see the slightest of nods. _Yes_, he seemed to be saying. She turned her attention back to the man. He was furious.

"Who are you?"

Kagome attempted to glare intimidatingly, which proved to be quite difficult in her pink jumper and banana-yellow heels. "You're scaring her."

His grip on her arm tightened. "Nonsense. Are you scared, Nazuna?"

"No," she whispered.

"We're fine. You need to mind your own business, girl."

His grip tightened on the girl's arm. Kagome pinched the skin on his wrist and twisted roughly until he released the girl. "Can I talk to you outside?" Her voice was soft.

Bloodhound moved to stand up and she nodded towards Nazuna. He'd see to her safety. Perhaps take her to the police for protection.

"Come with me," he said, surprisingly gentle . Her eyes flicked to her aggressive companion and Bloodhound whispered, "She'll take care of it. Come on. I know someone who can help." He guided her out the door.

The man lurched towards Nazuna and Bloodhound but Kagome forced him back into his seat with a firm hand.

Hojo looked on in apprehension. "Kagome-"

"I'll call you later Hojo," there was a waver in her voice. She had hoped for a nice day. "I'm sorry. You're a really nice boy. I have to take care of this."

"I…? Kagome, I can't leave you here, he obviously means ill." Hojo's eyes shifted back and forth, betraying his nervousness. "He seems dangerous."

"I can handle it. Hojo. Please. Trust me."

"Alright."

Outside was where she confronted the monster and behind the café was where she taught him the evils of violence against others. She left him there a whimpering and half-conscious. She backed away from the man, breathing hard and shaking slightly. She hoped Nazuna had reported him to the police once Bloodhound had deposited her there. Kagome took out her cell and called him.

"You still at the café?" his voice was subdued. Perhaps something had gone wrong.

"Yes. Can you come back?"

"Yeah. Just don't go anywhere or get into any messes. Never met someone needed saving as much as you."

"I do not need saving Blood hou-" the call went dead. He had hung up.

Maybe five minutes later his voice sounded out from above her. "Need me to drop him off at the station?" She tilted her head back, shielding her eyes from noonday sun. He was looking at her from the roof of the café, long black braid hanging over his left shoulder.

She shook her head. "No, I just…" She actually wasn't entirely sure why she called Bloodhound at all.

He jumped down, landing with a soft _whumpf._ "Then let's go somewhere."

"Where?" Kagome sighed deeply and touched his shoulder. He chose not to move away, and instead scooped her up into his arms.

"Hey!" she shouted, but he paid her no heed and proceeded to leap from building to building, slowly increasing in speed. Metal and glass blurred in her vision. She guessed that he was moving slow enough that people could register his presence but quick enough to forestall any recognition of their features. It was not uncomfortable, being held by Bloodhound. She never quite had the time to truly consider any of that before today, as much of the time they spent together was characterized by thinking not doing. Her hip bone bounced uncomfortably off of his abdominal muscles – rock-hard they were – but he took care to hold her gently after months of partnership. A year, she thinks, it's been a year. She raised her gaze up at him (realizing he smelled faintly of grass and earth and the stinging-sweet aroma of flowers).

He met her eyes, scowling. "What?"

"Nothing." She smiled faintly. "You smell like the outdoors."

His hand tightened on her shoulder. "Am I supposed to thank you for that?" he growled.

"It's just an observation, Bloodhound." He was kind of handsome too, but she was never going to let him know.


End file.
